


Captured

by Casstea



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gwaine and Percival get captured, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being stuck in a small cell with Percival was certainly not the most memorable times Gwaine had enjoyed with the other man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured

**Author's Note:**

> For oatmealcoloured who gave me an invite for A03! Thank you so much dear, and I hope you like this! :)

Being stuck in a small cell with Percival was certainly not the most memorable times Gwaine had enjoyed with the other man.

"You alright?" Percival asked. Gwaine nodded in the darkness, as he shifted next to Percival, the other looping his arm over Gwaine's shoulder. The darkness made Gwaine's eyes hurt, and his head still rung with the blow that had blacked him out. From the bruises he could feel emerging on Percival's arms, he guessed that his partner had been much harder to be knocked out than himself.

"Did you work out who these people are?" Gwaine asked.

"No more than you,"

"How long we're you up for after me?"

"'bout five minutes,"

Gwaine raised his eyebrow. It was a silly thing to do really, his head felt woozy any time he moved the muscles connected to his eyes. Even speaking was a challenge at the moment, his throat having been punched by one of the assailants. Luckily, the blow hadn't landed cleanly, so his windpipe was only sore and not broken.

"Don't speak," Percival said, "even I can hear your voice is going,"

 Gwaine snorted in discontent. The pain was still there, but after long years of training he had managed to learn the technique of compartmentalising the pain so it did not overrun all his waking thoughts. He had tried to go to sleep earlier, but Percival had kept poking him and threatening to sing badly if he even attempted it. Gwaine knew it was stupid, wanting to sleep when he probably had a serious head injury, but he was so tired.

They had been patrolling the outer regions of Arthur's realm when they had been happened upon by bandits whose cause was yet unclear. It hadn't been anything important, the aim of the patrol had been more to demonstrate that Arthur's power still reached in the corners of his vast kingdom.

Gwaine had forced Percival to come to the tavern, mostly because the best source of all information would be from the slightly inebriated locals. Plus he hadn't fancied sleeping rough for more nights than necessary, so the opportunity of a warm meal and relatively soft bed had sold the idea. Percival had remarked that Gwaine didn't like sleeping rough because his arse was too delicate, for which Gwaine had put salt in the other man’s first beverage when they had reached the tavern.

“This is fun,” Gwaine remarked sleepily.

“Everything is fun to you,” Percival replied, “you thought that time we were fighting a Chimera ‘fun’.”

Gwaine smiled at the memory, leaning back into Percival.

“Now we wait,” Gwaine croaked. They couldn’t escape in their current state, they just had to hope fortunes changed to their advantage so they could escape. Gwaine certainly didn’t want to be rescued by Arthur and the other knights, he wouldn’t live down the ribbing from his fellow Knights for weeks.

“Now we wait,” Percival agreed.

x-x-x

“We have to escape,” Gwaine said.

“I don’t know where you’ve got your energy back all of a sudden,” Percival remarked dryly.

“You know where,” Gwaine said, peering out through the bars of their cell, “the bad guy’s magic helper dude healed me.”

“I still think it’s dangerous,” Percival said. That was Percival, always the voice of reason to Gwaine’s impulsive cheek, “you don’t know what they could have done to you,”

“I feel fine,” Gwaine said, looking up and down the corridor they were being held in. He could just see the keys at the end of the corridor, about twelve feet from their cell.

“The keys haven’t moved, Gwaine,” Percival remarked, “and unless you’re secretly a warlock, which I highly doubt, you’re never going to reach them.”

“How do you know I don’t have magic powers?”

“You stink,”

“Two days in a cell does that,”

“And your hair is matted,” Percival continued, “if you could do magic you would have at least managed to make your hair flow in long flowing locks.”

“You like my long flowing locks,” Gwaine said, resisting the impulse to try and pull his fingers through his matted hair. It had always been a source of amusement for Percival, whose hair was of a much more manageable nature to Gwaine’s.

However, hair aside, Gwaine knew that the most important matter was escaping from the god forsaken hole they were currently held in.

“Punch a guard?” Percival suggested, as if reading Gwaine’s mind.

“You could just bend the bars,” Gwaine replied, an equally ridiculous suggestion. The guards who delivered their food were always accompanied by the magic user who had healed both Gwaine and Percival on their first night. It was as if their captors were terrified that they had magic-

“What is it?” Percival asked, noting the amazed look that spread across Gwaine’s face.

“They don’t know who we are,” Gwaine said, “they think we have magic.”

“So?”

“They think we might be Arthur and Merlin,”

“And how is that going to help us escape?”

Gwaine’s smile grew wider.

“They haven’t done anything because they’re terrified of us,”

“So we use that against them?” Percival said, slowly following Gwaine’s trail of thought.

“Bagsie being Arthur,” Gwaine said.

“Because I am the spitting image of Merlin,” Percival remarked, joining his partner at the bars to their cell “no way are you being Arthur.”

 x-x-x

“You pretended to be us, to get out?” Arthur asked incredulously.

Gwaine and Percival were standing in the King’s chambers, three days after escaping their captors. They had just walked into Camelot when Merlin had appeared out of nowhere (and knowing Merlin, that wasn’t just a metaphor) and dragged them up to Arthur’s chambers where a very confused King tried to clarify the reports of ‘King Arthur’ and his trusty advisor ‘Merlin’ had been apparently seen scampering across the fields of the outer region of Albion, being chased by some very annoyed looking captors.

“How did you manage that?” Arthur asked, poking Gwaine, “you look nothing like me,”

“I’m more worried that they managed to by Percival looking like me,” Merlin asked, glancing towards Percival, “we look nothing alike.”

“You have the same smile,” Gwaine commented.

“Because that removes the fact that Percival is almost twice my size,” Merlin said.

Percival smiled. Gwaine knew that masquerading as Merlin had amused the other knight greatly. Underneath all of the level-headed thinking was a man who loved to get up to mischief.

“Whatever,” Arthur said, waving his hand to move the subject on, “I want you two back in an hour after you’ve been checked over by Gauis and don’t smell awful, to give me a full report on who these people are.”

“Merlin said we were fine,” Gwaine protested.

“Merlin made sure you hadn’t been the subject of any dubious magic,” Arthur said, “I still want to make sure neither of you drop over because you ate something bad during your captivity.”

“Yes, sire,” Gwaine sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Certainly, sire,” Percival said with more seriousness in his voice. Gwaine and Percival nodded in respect to their King and Merlin, turning to leave.

“And Percival,” Arthur said.

“Yes sire?” Percival replied.

“Make sure Gwaine turns up on time,” Arthur finished.

“Indeed, sire,” Percival promised. Gwaine glared at his partner’s wicked grin as they left Arthur’s chambers.

His timekeeping wasn’t _that_ bad.


End file.
